


It is quiet and warm in the countryside

by LeSirene



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Domestic Fluff, F/M, I was just playing around and this turned out to be SO SOFT?!, Moving In Together, Pre-Reveal Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Reveal, Roommates, and they read little women, chat teaches Chinese to ladybug, domestic Adrinette, domestic ladynoir, ladybug teaches chat noir how to cook, ladynoir being the cutest friends/rommates, like so much domestic fluff you guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:41:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23474824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeSirene/pseuds/LeSirene
Summary: In a desperate attempt to draw Hawk Moth away from Paris and into the empty countryside, far away from civilian casualties, Ladybug and Chat Noir move in together to a little, isolated cottage, and try to survive each other as they wait for the enemy to track them down.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Adrinette - Relationship, Ladybug / Chat Noir, ladynoir
Comments: 106
Kudos: 241
Collections: Miraculous: Ladybug and Chat Noir





	1. Would you teach me?

It was a nice little cottage in the countryside, with walls made of grey stone and a cute red roof. Master Fu had said it belonged to his family, but it looked like no one had been there in a few years. The front door was slightly covered by weeds and outgrown bushes, and a window on the back had been left open, cold air and dry leaves getting inside with every blow of the wind.

As Chat Noir took the last bags out of the trunk, Master Fu called Ladybug from the front seat of his car, and through the open window gave her a set of keys.

“You’ll find everything you need inside,” he told her. “If you run out of food, give me a call, there are no shops in the area.”

Ladybug nodded, still a little dizzy from the whole situation, and accepted the keys. Master Fu waved them goodbye as the car started to move again. He had said he didn’t wanted to stay there for long, so he didn’t draw any unnecessary attention. Ladybug wandered attention from _who_ , since around them only laid green grass and a grove a little to their right; far, far away, she could see the blue silhouettes of the mountains. On their way there, they had only seen three cottages like theirs, and only one of them seemed to be inhabited.

Chat Noir’s voice took her back to reality:

“Would you do the honours?” he asked, standing in front of the door.

She put the biggest key of the set in the lock and turned it two times. It surprised her how easily the door opened, only screeching a little as she pushed it into the shaded interior. A wave of dust and the smell of humidity hit them on the face and made her wrinkle her nose. Ladybug stared into the darkness as Chat Noir took a step inside.

“Cheer up, my Lady!” he said, bags on hands. “Take this as a practice for when we move into our first place together.” Ladybug gave him a serious look, still outside, and he dropped the bags so he could raise both hands on apology. “Yeah, I know, no joking ‘till we get out.” A deep sigh. “This is going to be so boring.”

“Don’t give me so little credit,” she tried to laugh as she grabbed the last things he hadn’t carry inside. “I happen to be a very funny person.”

“Says who?”

She held her chin up and took a step inside. The place felt cold, the furniture covered by bed sheets and the sheets covered by a thin layer of dust.

“I do.”

The place wasn’t half as bad as she’d thought. Besides from the broken window and the dirt accumulated through the years, nothing seemed to be broken or rotten, as she had feared. They checked around the rooms to make sure there were no intruders of any kind. Ladybug could deal with spiders and cockroaches, even snakes and perhaps bats, but she’d literally colapse if she saw a rat. Chat Noir laughed his loudest laugh when she told him so, and reassured her he’d take care of the rodents if they found any, but luckily they didn’t.

He insisted she took the master bedroom, since she was the leader of the team and the only parental figure in the house for as long as they remained there. She didn’t knew if she should thank him for giving her the biggest room or smack him for comparing her to a mom, so she did both and he laughed again.

Chat Noir looked the most relaxed she had seen him in years, since they were little kids running around the city way past their bedtime. Time had toughen him up, he had matured at least a _little_ bit since then, and although he remained a hopeless flirt, something in him had changed; he seemed more like a young man in the making rather than a careless teenager. But ever since Master Fu had came up with the idea of shipping them to the countryside, something had sparked inside of Chat Noir. Maybe it was the perspective of all the free time they were going to have, maybe it was that he really liked nature, maybe it was something else.

They spent the first couple days conditioning the place. They deep cleaned the kitchen and the bathroom, swept the living room and the two bedrooms until all of the dust was outside and no longer inside of the house. Chat Noir filled the kitchen cabinets with the provisions they had bought, and Ladybug made the beds with brand new sheets. They didn’t know how long they were going to stay there; it could take days, weeks or even months for Hawk Moth to track them down. Ladybug hoped it only took him a few days.

Master Fu had gotten them faux papers for a supposed internship in the eastern side of France, so they could excuse themselves from their jobs and universities. Two different internships, in fact, so no one could relate their absences. She was supposed to be learning about an ancient form of knitting sheep wool, and Chat Noir’s had something to do with… business? She would’ve never guessed he’d be into stuff like that, but she supposed there was a lot she didn’t know about her partner.

The only bright side of being locked in there was getting to spend time with Chat Noir. She usually was hard on him because he was one of the most inopportune people she knew, flirting in the middle of a fight and playing clown when the situation called for a serious take, but she really enjoyed his company. He was one of her best friends, sometimes the only one to be there for her, especially when things got hard and life turned just too complicated. But she wouldn’t to tell him so, because it would get to his head.

They finished cleaning and tidying on the evening of the second day, and Ladybug sat on the living room as the sky turned from pink to purple. The room had windows all around its walls, and the dim light of the dusk projected long shadows around her as the sun disappeared in the West. She was sitting on the only sofa of the living room, which was rather small and still smelled like dust and humidity, and laid her sore feet on the coffee table in front of her. On the other side of the table there were two wooden armchairs, and to the right was an unlit fireplace.

Ladybug played with her phone in her hands, unsure what to do with all of this free time she had. Master Fu had instructed them to remain as disconnected from the outside as they could, so they wouldn’t feel tempted to go back to Paris. The rest of the Miraculous Team was taking care of the city on their absence, and she trusted them to keep Paris in one piece as they waited for Hawk Moth to find them, but she couldn’t help to feel useless and restless, just sitting in a little cottage as her teammates fought without their leaders.

Chat Noir emerged from the kitchen with two steaming cups in his hands. He slowly sat next to her and offered her one cup. They had taken the habit of finishing their day with a warm cup of tea, since it was what Chat Noir used to do in his normal life.

“Thanks.”

Ladybug pulled her knees to her chest and hugged the cup with both hands. The last days of summer had been left behind a couple weeks in the past, and the autumn grew in France, the temperature dropping day after day. She stared at her gloves, whose material prevented her from feeling much cold, but also feeling much warmth; the cup felt like it was far away from her skin.

“It feels so odd to have the suit on all the time,” she said, her eyes fixed on her hands.

Chat Noir let out a breathy laugh.

“Please, feel free to take it off.”

“In your dreams, kitty cat.”

He opened his mouth to comment on it, but she stared at him until he closed it and gave her a toothy grin. He took a sip of his tea and sighed, looking pleased as he sank deeper into the cushions.

“Day two,” he said, instead. “I think we are doing pretty good.”

She managed to nod, but her eyes wandered to her phone, which now rested between them on the couch. It was getting closer to the fifteen minutes a day they allowed themselves to connect with the exterior, and she already felt stressed. She had to measure all of her words, had to lie and tell half-truths in order to maintain her facade. On their first night, she had called her parents to tell them she arrived safe, that everyone there was nice and she was very excited about her internship. On the second night, she had only texted them, because she didn’t felt like she could hide the truth on her voice. She had believed herself to be a good liar by now, since she had to lie on an everyday basis to hide her secret identity, but this time was different. She wasn’t saying she had been hanging with friends when in reality she had been fighting an Akuma; now she had to lie about _everything_ she did, and her lies and half-truths had started to taste bitter on her tongue.

Chat Noir did call home. Every night he would go outside and walk around the little garden on the back of the house as the held his phone with his shoulder and read random facts from a folder he had prepared. He had told her that his father took his education very seriously, more than normal, and every night quizzed him about the stuff he was supposed to be learning on his internship. He had even brought his actual university textbooks, so this time away wouldn’t affect his grades. She had teased him for being a nerd, but couldn’t really blame him; she had also brought her sketching notebooks and some of the newest fashion magazines she could find.

The tea was getting cold in her hands, so she hurried to finish it and then put the empty cup on the coffee table.

“I’m so bored,” she commented to no one in particular.

“We could try studying,” Chat Noir suggested.

She had to take back her words: he was the _biggest_ nerd.

“We studied all afternoon.”

Chat Noir tap his chin with a finger that ended in a long, sharp claw. His suit must‘ve been much more unconformable than hers. Even though her suit was skin tight, at lest it was made of a comfortable spandex, while Chat’s was made of leather and had the belt and the claws and the cat ears. God, she should thank Tikki more often for her minimalistic, very efficient supersuit.

“I found some books on my bedroom’s closet,” Chat Noir said at last.

“You've been poking around the house?”

“Only my closet. Had to make room for my stuff,” Chat Noir shrugged as the laid his empty cup next to hers. Then he sat sideways so he could face her. “Anyway, I found some old books if you’d like to read something. I would lend you my textbooks, but my name is written inside and I don’t want to tempt you.”

“You still label your stuff?” she asked as she laughed. “Such a dork.”

“Well, they are expensive! I don’t want to lose them.”

“Dork!” she accused again, and pointed at him with her finger. She saw his cheeks turning red, and kept teasing until his whole face matched her suit.

“Look at the time,” he exclaimed as he stood up and pretended to check on a watch he didn’t have. “I should call home.” And then exited the room through the back door, which lead to the garden.

Ladybug turned her phone on and watched as the messages from the last twenty-four hours filled her screen. Alya had texted her through the day and she took her time to answer to every text, and then keep chatting with her once Alya started to reply as well. Ladybug gave her friend the same speech she was going to give to her parents, so that her stories matched. She tried to sound casual as she asked for the current state of the city, and Alya gave her vague answers. She couldn’t ask about Rena Rouge’s experience fighting solo while she spoke to her as Marinette, but since Alya didn’t comment on anything extraordinary, she supposed everything remained calm.

Ladybug had just hang on her parents when Chat Noir sat next to her once again, this time carrying a couple of books with him.

“Are you going to study? Again?” she asked. He rolled his eyes.

“Ha! These are some of the books I told you about. The ones I found.”

He showed her two thin tomes and she chose the one that had a red and pink cover. It wasn’t until she opened it that she discovered she wouldn’t understand a single thing on the pages.

“I can’t read this.”

“What do you mean?”

“This isn’t French!” she exclaimed as she showed him the first page of her book.

Chat Noir laughed one of those laughs that traveled through his body and then into his eyes.

“It’s Chinese,” he explained as he took the book from her hands. His eyes wondered around the page, as if he was looking for something. “This one is about… I believe it’s a translation of _Little Women_.”

She stared at him as her jaw dropped to her chest.

“You speak Chinese?”

Chat Noir blushed once again.

“Ah, yeah, I do.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “My dad insisted I should learn a third language and… Yeah. Chinese.” And to draw the attention away from him, he added: “You… don’t?”

“My mom does, and guess I can understand a little, but can’t read or write, not even my name!” She shook her head in disbelief. “Sometimes I feel like everyone speaks it but me.” She bit her lower lip as she looked at him and then at the book, her cheeks turning red as an idea took form on her head. Chat Noir tensed on the other side of the couch. “Would you… teach me?”

“Teach you?” he repeated, his voice low and breathy, like a whisper.

“Chinese.”

“You want me to teach you Chinese,” he repeated again, sounding more like a question than a statement.

Ladybug jumped to her feet. Her legs were numb after all the time she had spent with her knees to her chest, but she didn’t think about them as she mumbled: “ _ForgetwhatIsaid_.” And started to pick up the tea cups.

Chat Noir grabbed her by the elbow before she could complete her escape, and made her face him. She didn’t wanted to; her face felt too hot, too red, she had gotten so nervous all of the sudden. But she turned to him at the end, because she was no coward.

“I would love to teach you, Ladybug,” he said in a reassuring tone that calmed her nerves. His face was just as blushed as hers, and that calmed her further. Sometimes they were so awkward it made her want to laugh and cry.

She sat again, this time closer to him, so they could share the book, and he pointed at the characters printed on the first page as he read. She knew it should say “ _Little Women_ , by Louisa May Alcott”, but she let him translate it for her while he explained how the Chinese alphabet was far more sophisticated than the one they used, how its written form was one of the oldest in the world and had colonised the neighbouring countries. He told her facts about her ancestors that she’d never heard about. This facet of Chat Noir surprised her to her bones; she would’ve never taken him for such a good teacher, someone so interested in a culture so different from his, but there they were, one on top of the other as he taught her how to read the first pages of _Little Women_ in the language of her mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all: a huuuge thank you for staying util the end! <3
> 
> I can't explain how excited I am about this little thing that I'm writing and sharing with you. I've put a lot of effort into it and I'd love for you to enjoy reading it as much as I have liked writing it.  
> This is going to be short(ish) and sweet, a little idea that came to my mind in this times of isolation and stuck for so long that I had to write it down. I hope it brings you peace and joy in this difficult times.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Le Sirene Xx
> 
> NOTE: I don’t know anything about the Chinese language or culture, and even though I made some research before writing this, I might make some mistakes along the way. If you speak Chinese and ever see I write something that isn’t right, please let me know, so I can fix it! I’m trying to be as respectful with the Chinese culture as I can, and that’s why I won’t go into specifics as I write, ‘cause I’m no expert and I’m only taking the prompt from the show :)  
> I'm open to any kind of suggestions, don't be shy to write!


	2. Yeah, I’ll teach you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chat Noir makes a very good cup of coffee.

The hot running water brought some warmth back to her body. The nights and early mornings had gotten colder in just one week, which made her beg for Hawk Moth to find them as soon as possible. On her last report, Rena Rouge had told them that although the team had tried to make contact with Hawk Moth, they had been out of luck. They were going to keep trying, of course; after all, taking him out of the city was the main goal on sending the pair to the middle of nowhere, but until then they would have to wait.

After a couple days of trial and error, Ladybug and Chat Noir had managed to create a little routine, so they could keep themselves occupied and avoid worrying about everyone they had left behind.

Every morning, as soon as the sky started to show the first lights of the day, they went outside and trained together. They jogged until the sun rose in the horizon, and then went into the little forest near the cottage, to avoid the curious eyes Master Fu had been so wary about. They climbed trees and jumped between roots and fallen branches, they exercised and practiced fighting with each other until they were out of breath, their faces red and sweaty.

After training came a shower and breakfast. They would take turns on who’d cook each morning, so one got to shower before breakfast and the other right after eating. That morning had been Ladybug’s turn to shower first, for what she was extremely thankful, because as soon as they finished training she had felt like she was about to turn into an actual ice statue. She may have wandered a little longer than necessary at the shower, and was marvelling at the sensation of the hot water on her skin when a knock on the door startled her.

“My Lady, are you okay? You’ve been in there for a while.”

She rushed to turn the shower off before answering to Chat Noir’s concerned voice. Her body started to tremble as soon as the hot water stopped sliding down her skin.

“I’ll be out in a minute!” she said, grabbing the towel she had left on top of the sink. “I got carried away, sorry.”

It took Chat Noir ten full seconds to respond.

“Okay, take your time.”

And then she herd as his footsteps walked away from the door and into the kitchen.

A few minutes later, hair wrapped in a towel and supersuit in place, she sat at the small kitchen table, facing her partner. On top of the surface laid two empty plates and two cups of coffee, butter and strawberry jam, and a tower of toasts.

Ladybug had recently learned that Chat Noir liked his coffee black, no sugar or milk, which seemed just too odd to her, too grown-up. At twenty-one years old, she liked her coffee half water and half milk, with two spoonfuls of sugar; at home she’d sometimes add vanilla extract or chocolate powder, to dissimulate the taste. If it wasn’t because she actually needed the caffeine to wake up, she probably would’t drink it at all.

“Ah, this is good,” she almost sighed after the first sip. Her hot drink finished reactivating the parts of her body that the steaming shower hadn’t been able to warm up. “You make a very good coffee, my friend.”

Chat Noir gave her a cheshire cat smile.

“I’m glad you like it. At least that part of my breakfasts doesn’t suck.”

“Your breakfasts most definitely don’t suck, Chat. How could toast and coffee suck?”

He pointed towards the stove.

“I mean, you cook these fancy things all the time. My toasts look so sad next to your pancakes and the eggs and stuff.”

“Come on, don’t do that,” she said as she picked up a piece of toast and started to spread butter on it. “I’m used to cooking a lot, almost everyday, but this breakfast is as good as any. Don’t pull yourself down.”

“I’m so hopeless in the kitchen,” he insisted, to which he gained an annoyed look from Ladybug.

“Enough with the self-deprecation number, Chat Noir! I’m starting to get actually mad at you.” She furrowed her brow and he started laughing.

“I’m messing with you, my Lady,” he said, grabbing his second piece of toast from the pile. “I mean, I’m nothing like you, but I’m a… decent cook. You already know I am good at everything I do.”

“Except making your bed,” she teased.

“Please don’t remind me.”

“I mean, you told me you were loaded, but I still can’t believe you had never made your own bed before. I actually had to show you how to!” Chat Noir’s cheeks started to turn red, which filled her with delight. In the last week, she had discovered how easy it was for her to make him blush, and it was so funny to watch how he started to lose his cool facade when she teased him only the tiniest. Feeling benevolent, since he had made her such a good cup of coffee, she changed the subject: “I could teach you, you know, if you wanted to learn how to cook.”

Chat Noir’s face turned even redder, which took her by surprise. He looked at her with big, bright eyes, like an exited child.

“Really?”

“Yeah, for sure! You teach me Chinese and I’ll teach you how to cook. Sounds good to you?”

Chat Noir took a big bite of toast and smiled at her with his mouth full of crumbs.

“It sounds amazing!”

Besides being a very patient teacher, Chat Noir turned out to be a very good student. After spending the rest of the morning studying and cleaning around the house, they cooked lunch together. They started from the bottom, of course, because neither of them felt like burning Master Fu’s cottage to the ground, so they made pasta: boxed spaghetti with homemade tomato sauce. Ladybug walked Chat Noir through every step of the process, washing and cutting the tomatoes with him, helping him add the noodles into the boiling water and the dry ingredients into the sauce.

“I prefer a sweeter sauce,” she explained as she added sugar to the mix. “Some people like it with basil and olives, some add carrots and bell pepper, but we’re keeping it simple for now.”

“I think we have some dried herbs somewhere around here,” Chat Noir said as he opened the cabinet above of them. “Here, look: oregano. It goes good with tomatoes, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, actually, it does.” She gestured for him to add as much oregano as he liked. Chat Noir took some out of the bag with the tip of his claw and poured it inside of the pan.

“Is that okay?”

“That’s great!”

When everything was ready, they sat at the small table, one in front of the other, and together they took the first bite.

“Oh my God,” Chat Noir said, and Ladybug feared he didn’t liked the noodles, the sauce, maybe she had made it too sweet for him? He seemed to eat so little sugar on his meals. But then he aded, cheerfully: “This is amazing! I can’t believe we made this.” He held his first between them. “Please pound it.”

Of course she’d pound it.

Ladybug could only smile at her parter through the meal, while he talked and talked and compared their sauce to something he had eaten at one of the most exclusive restaurants of Paris, saying that that one couldn’t compete with their’s. He looked so pleased with himself, like he had just accomplished something big; it warmed her heart. She’d never guessed Chat Noir would enjoy cooking the way he did. Yet again: there where so many things she didn’t knew about him before this time together.

More than once, she had found herself staring at him when he couldn’t see her: while he talked on the phone, walking in circles around the backyard, while they ran through the countryside at dawn, while he explained Chinese to her. He was full of wonder, always curious and ready to try something new, be it going out to explore, be it staying in to read one of Master Fu’s mysterious books. He was also very responsible with his education; he was the one to call her out when her eyes started to explore the world beyond her sketchbooks and magazines, and also was the last one of them to stop studying every afternoon.

They cleaned the kitchen while they talked about their activities for the rest of the day. She had been thinking about trying to lit up the fireplace, see if they could warm up the cottage before the cold beat them in the race. He liked her idea, and agreed to go pick up some wood while she made sure the chimney wasn’t clogged and the fireplace was safe to use.

The cottage felt too quiet once Chat Noir left. Ladybug stood in the center of the living room and called her transformation off; a bright pink and red light filled the room as she was released from her supersuit, and a moment later Tikki floated right next to her. The Kwami stared at her Holder with big indigo eyes.

“You seem to be having a good time,” she commented.

Marinette smiled as she regained some of her independence. The suit was comfortable and everything, but she couldn’t help felling a little trapped after having to stay in it day after day.

“Yes, I think we are,” she agreed. “I’ve always considered Chat a close friend, but we had never actually hang for long. I’m…” she pondered her words, “discovering a new side of him, learning new stuff all the time. It feels nice to actually get to know him like this.”

“Very nice,” Tikki said, flying in circles around Marinette. “He’s pleased, too, you know? Plagg told me so.”

“You are in contact with Chat Noir’s kwami?”

“Yes, of course! He’s _my_ closest friend. We come here and chat while you two are sleeping.”

Even Marinette was surprised when she found herself asking:

“What did he said?”

“About you?” Tikki sat on the coffee table and stared at the young woman with that curious look of hers. “He’s happy that you two are in peace and handling the situation. He was scared that you’d put on your professional face and were all distant and cold with him. But you haven’t! So he’s really glad.”

Tikki’s words weighed on Marinette’s shoulders. Chat Noir hand’t told her about that, hadn’t even hinted to be uncomfortable on the first days or anything like that.

“He was trying to give you your space,” Tikki said, doing that thing where she seemed to be able to read Marinette’s thoughts by only looking at her face. “He didn’t wanted to push you to be friendly if you didn’t felt like it. And he didn’t wanted you to push him away if he came up too friendly.”

To this revelations, Marinette had to sit down in front of Tikki for a moment. She had never imagined Chat Noir would have such a concept of her, couldn’t believe he had feared she would reject him, push him away, deny their unquestionable bond. Guess she hadn’t made it easy for him to feel that much comfortable around her in the past, always more worried about the next fight than about the quality of the relationship with her partner.

She had taken him for granted for a very long time, always trusting him to be behind her, ready to follow, ready to stop her fall, never questioning a single one of her plans. Everything while she walked ahead and never stoped to strengthen their innate bond with an actual human relationship. Well, yes, they _were_ friends, very good friends, but now she wandered if their friendship had grown like a normal one or if it had come out of habit and instinct. She felt so stupid now, thinking about it in a little cabin in the middle of nowhere, after six years of partnership.

“I can be so oblivious sometimes,” she said through her teeth. As the cold air started to stick on her unprotected skin, she remembered the task that laid ahead. “Tikki, I need a favour.”

“Whatever you need, Marinette.” The Kwami looked at her Holder with a strong curiosity, but seemed a little disappointed when she asked if she could get into the fireplace’s chimney to check if it was free of cinder and dry leaves. Tikki obeyed and into the chimney she went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all: a huge thank you for staying util the end of the chapter! <3  
> And thank you for subscribing and bookmarking and leaving kudos and comments on the previous chapter! You don't know how much that encouraged me to keep writing :)
> 
> I think the next chapter will be up tomorrow, or the day after. I'm already writing it and it's cozy and warm and LB and CN are so awkward and cute with each other.
> 
> I hope everyone is okay, giving the crazy times we're going through. Please stay inside, stay safe!
> 
> Thanks for reading ! See you in the next chapter or in the comment section. Le Sirene Xx


	3. A friend of mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "She used to live above a bakery."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This kids blush too much omg.

The fireplace made a huge difference. They would lit it up every day at dusk, and now Ladybug did no longer have to shiver herself to sleep every night. It also made getting out of bed in the morning a little less difficult. Only a little bit.

Their first week and a half at the cottage had passed without her even noticing. Between their exercising and studying and cooking and the Chinese lessons, time had flown by rather quickly. Ladybug may not even had even noticed, if it wasn’t because Chat Noir commented on it one evening, as they finished reading the sixth chapter of _Little Women_.

“You are learning really fast, my Lady!” he exclaimed as he poked her side. “Such a good student.”

She giggled as she struggled to maintain his hands away from her ticklish ribs.

“You think so?”

“Yes! I took me _forever_ to learn how to read without having to check every single thing a million times. You managed it in ten days!”

“I still have to check everything.”

“Yes, but only once or twice.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it slightly. “You are _prrr_ etty amazing.”

“Well,” she felt her face blush the tiniest bit, “it must be because you are a very good teacher, kitty cat.”

Chat Noir had given her his biggest, brightest smile then, and something inside of her had turned soft. That damned cat was slowly making his way into her heart. Not in a romantic way, of course; he was still the same boy that often ended up tangled in her yoyo’s string mid fight, the same one that had more than once called her in distress because his tongue had gotten stuck on a frozen lamppost, or his foot in a sewer drain, the very same boy that had once dressed up as a drag queen to distract a very particular Akuma. In her eyes, he remained the same he had always been, that cheerful boy from their very first fight together. 

But now he was also something else, something more; every single day she discovered something new about him. He was a very complex person, respectful but flirty, funny but responsible, very active but sometimes very lazy, as well. He had the ability of going from zero to a hundred really fast, and vice versa. And he cared for her, deeply. He celebrated her successes and minimised her flaws and losses, always encouraging her, reassuring her she was going to do better next time. He truly was a very, very good friend to her.

So she decided she was going to celebrate their friendship. While Chat Noir went picking wood for that night’s fire, she checked the kitchen’s cabinets in search of some bottles she had seen a couple days ago. She found them in the very back of the pantry: three bottles of red wine, all correctly sealed and covered by a thin layer of dust. Master Fu had told her they could take whatever they needed from the cottage, and she guessed she could always pay him back if those wines were expensive or something. Or, well, Chat Noir could pay him, since he was the millionaire, but she didn’t think he’d mind.

She prepared a plate of cheese, olives and the homemade bread they had cooked the day before, and served it on the living room’s coffee table, next to one of the bottles and two wine glasses. It wasn’t much, since she couldn’t just pop by the shop and buy more stuff, but the thought was what counted, right? She even collected a couple of the emergency candles they had brought in case of a blackout, and placed them on the coffee table, as well.

When Chat Noir came back a few minutes later, the sky was covered by dark grey clouds. He looked at her arrangement and then at her, eyes wide open, and she suddenly felt so… stupid. It was too much, wasn’t it? Did it look too much like a romantic dinner? She should’ve asked him before setting it up.

“To what do I owe the occasion?” Chat Noir asked at last, laying the wood next to the door as a heavy rain started to fall outside.

“I wanted to…” She struggled to find the words. It had gotten so dark, the living room partially lit by the candles and the kitchen’s light, which remained on. “It’s a thank you,” she managed to say, “for being such a good teacher, and a good partner… And a very good friend.”

Chat Noir stared at her for another moment before opening his arms wide. She leaned into him and allowed his arms to pull her in, hugging her close to his chest.

“You don’t need to thank me for anything, Ladybug,” he said into her hair. “I should be the one thanking you for putting up with me for this long. I’m honestly surprised you haven’t kicked me out yet.”

Face buried in this leather suit, she laughed, but only because she knew he was joking. That was another thing she had learned in the past days: to identify when his self-deprecating commentaries were for real and when he was only messing with her.

“You are a joy to have to put up with, Chat Noir.”

Ladybug poured wine into their glasses as Chat Noir prepared the fire, and then they sat one next to the other on the couch, as they had taken habit of doing. They toasted to six years of partnership and friendship, and for many more to come.

“I think this bread is our best creation yet, my Lady,” Chat Noir said, his mouth full.

“It’s the most basic thing we made.”

“Still.” He managed to fit an entire slice of thick white bread in his mouth. “So good,” he mumbled as he picked up a piece of cheese, and popped it in his mouth as soon as he had swallowed the bread. He took it all down his throat with a long sip of wine.

“You know, for a refined millionaire, you eat like a child.”

He pointed a finger at her.

“Well, I never said I was _refined_. Your little head came up with that on its own.” And he tapped at her temple a few times.

“Get off me, you’ll get crumbs all over my hair.” She sat sideways, resting her back on the arm of the couch, glass of wine on hand as she watched him gorge on cheese and bread. “I’m gonna tell you a secret, but you must promise you won’t laugh.”

“You know I can’t do that.” Chat Noir finished eating and sat sideways as well. While she had her legs pulled to her chest, he crossed his in the empty space between of them. “But go ahead, I’ll try my best not to laugh.”

She pondered her options. He was most definitely going laugh at her, even if he actually promised he wouldn’t. Honestly, so would she, if someone else told her what she was about to tell Chat Noir, but… Screw it. What was the worst thing that could happen? It would get to his head? What _didn’t_ get to his head, anyway?

“So…?” Chat Noir insisted.

Ladybug emptied her glass of wine and refilled it before saying anything.

“Okay, so, you know I’m into fashion, right?” He nodded, and she continued: “Well, once I thought that you could, maybe… be a model?” Chat Noir’s face turned pale, and she hurried to add: “I mean, because of your height! And your physique! I spend a lot of time with models and I always thought you’d make a good one.” She could feel how her face turned as red as Chat Noir’s had turned pale. God, why had she told him that? He was _never_ going to let it die.

“I am… am… I’m far too inappropriate to become a model,” Chat Noir mumbled, his mouth hiding behind of his glass. “Can you imagine _me_ at a studio?” He laughed perhaps a little too sharply, but it helped bringing the tension down. “Thanks for the… good faith, though.”

Ladybug entertained herself with the thought of her partner all dressed up, make up and outfit on, posing for a photographer. He was right, it would be too odd. But she couldn’t deny that he did have a model’s physique. He was taller than her for almost two heads, his body toned and symmetrical, even graceful when he wanted it to, and she was pretty sure he must had a very handsome face under that mask, with those intense green eyes and that perfect white smile and that golden skin, so similar to…

“Have I ever told you that a friend of mine is a designer, too?” Chat Noir’s voice brought her back to reality.

“I don’t remember, honestly.”

“Yeah.” Chat Noir took a sip of wine and then rested the glass on his knee. “I haven’t seen her in a while, but she used to be pretty good… Oh, wait! You know her! Remember Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

Ladybug felt her body go numb. What were the odds of him knowing her on his civilian life? Did she know anyone who looked like _him_?

“Dupain-Cheng?” she repeated to gain time.

“Yes. She’s our age, used to live above a bakery. And her mom is Chinese, too! You gave her the Mouse Miraculous once, remember?”

Right. He remembered her from all the times civilian Marinette had directly interacted with Chat Noir, how could she forget about that? It was so sweet of him to consider her a _friend_ , even when they had interacted so little through the years. Her nerves calmed as she mumbled:

“Ah, yes! Yes, I remember now. She helped us that time with the… thing.”

“Well, she studies fashion, too.” Chat Noir straightened a little. “You should talk to her sometime, could help each other out, designer to designer.” He picked his glass up again and finished it; she stretched across the couch to refill it for him, since the bottle was on her side. When she thought the conversation about her civilian self had ended, her partner added: “And wasn’t she friends with that model boy, the son of that designer?”

“Adrien Agreste!” Ladybug exclaimed, taken by surprise. “God, I haven’t seen him in ages.”

Chat Noir stared at her for a moment too long.

“You… saw him a lot?” he asked, looking a little sceptical. Ladybug realised she had came out too excited and tried to play it cool:

“I mean, no, but he helped us a couple times, too. I tried giving him the Snake Miraculous once, but he wouldn’t take it.” She shook her head and took a sip of wine. “What a shame. I still think he would’ve made a very good superhero.”

“Why?”

When Ladybug’s eyes returned to her partner, she discovered he had turned red.

“Are you jealous, kitty cat?” she teased, taping his knee with her foot.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled, “should I?”

“Come on!”

Chat Noir made an act of being deeply ofended. Or maybe he was. She couldn’t tell from this far, his face only lit by the orange glimmer of the fireplace and the candles.

“I could ask Marinette to get you his number, if you’d rather be locked in here with the actual model instead of this old cat.”

“Don’t say that, Chat!” she half-giggled, trying to get in his good graces again. She even went as far as to get in her knees and approach his face, so she could look straight into his eyes as she said: “There is no one I’d rather be locked with than you.”

In no more than a blink’s time span, Chat Noir’s face went from red to white.

“For real?” he asked, eyes locked on hers.

“Yes, for real. You are worth so much more than a pretty face.”

He stared at her for another moment. Their faces were so close she could feel his breath on her face, the bitter smell of the wine getting her more drunk than she already was.

“Yes, you are right,” he said at least, “I’m far prettier than him.”

“That’s not what I said.”

Chat Noir swept his hair out of his eyes and made the most exaggerated imitation of a modelling pose she had seen in her life. And she had seen a lot of them.

“Well, that’s what I heard, my Lady, and I’m the one with the super cat ears.”

Ladybug’s eyes scouted the room as she wandered what to do next. All of the food was gone, the bottle of wine almost empty, and she had started to feel a little dizzy from the wine and from the relaxing sound of the rain. But the fire burned bright behind of her, warming her back, and the couch felt so comfortable and soft. Chat Noir seemed to be comfortable, too, and warm, and inviting. Before she could reject the idea that crossed her mind, she finished her glass and scooped over to her partner’s side. She leaned on his chest, resting her head in the crook of his neck, and he welcomed her without saying a word, wrapping his arms around her tired body.

“I like spending time with you like this,” she said quietly. “It’s almost like being out of the mask.”

A heavy silence grew between them, her words floating like a spell. The storm resonated on the roof and filled the cottage with its echo. It hadn’t occurred it to her on the past days, but it would be so _easy_ to take the masks off, just a couple of words from both of their mouths and, just like that, it would be over. All of the mystery and secrecy gone for good. Ladybug wandered what would Chat Noir think if he found out that old, clumsy, mess-of-a-person Marinette was Ladybug. He’d probably laugh like mad at her face.

“I like hanging with you, too,” Chat Noir said at last, pulling her closer to his chest. “I’ve never told you this, but you have always been the one constant in my life. The one friend I could always count on, no matter what.” He gave her a thin, nostalgic smile. “I always knew you’d never judge me or reject me… beyond of what my attempts to woo you have proven.”

She was the one laughing at his face now. How could he say such things without even flinching an eye, while he held her like that? Must’ve been the years of practice.

“You will _always_ have a friend in me, Chat. I promise.” Her words warmed his heart beyond of what she could imagine, but she could feel the shift in his body. He relaxed and sank deeper into the couch, extending his legs along with hers, limbs intertwined as she got turned to her side. They were facing each other now, the warmth of their bodies melting into one.

“And I’ll always be the love of your life, my Lady. I promise, too.” He placed a hand on his heart, the back of it touching her chest. She raised a hand and pinched his nose.

“Such a flirt,” she said, but there were no traces of accusation in her tone.

Chat Noir smiled, burring his face in the little gap between their joined shoulders. She could feel his breath on her neck as he whispered:

“Thank you for being my friend.”

She put an arm around his waist, embracing him as he embraced her, welcoming his words, his body, his company.

“Thank you for being mine,” she whispered back, her eyes already closing.

“Always yours.”

“Flirt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Were you waiting for a kiss? Ha ha ha. Stay tuned and you miiiiight (most definitely will) find one in the next chapter.)
> 
> First of all: a huge thank you for staying util the end of the chapter! <3
> 
> Thank you sooooooo much for reading and subscribing and leaving kudos and comments guys!! Writing always feels kind of lonely and it really means a lot when we get feed back, it makes all of the hard work worth it.
> 
> Please stay safe! Stay indoors, grab a cup of of tea or coffee (or red wine, if you are feeling fancy) and keep reading and writing and spending time with your loved ones. And sleeping as much as you can! In a few months all of this will be a bad memory and we will once again be complaining about how we never have time for ourselves. I'm rambling, sorry. Please stay safe :)
> 
> Thank you for reading!! See you in the next chapter or in the comment section. Le Sirene Xx


	4. Soundly asleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet. Nothing is what it seems.

Ladybug slowly opened one eye. The world had become a golden gleam, not one shadow in sight, the morning light pouring into the living room from all of its windows. She sighed and tried to cover her face with her hand, her arm, Chat Noir’s arm, but the light remained there, hitting her straight in the eyes. And she desperately needed a couple more hours of sleep, or maybe a full day of it, cuddling and napping in company of the warm body that laid next to hers.

She turned to her other side, facing Chat Noir now, finding a little gloom between his arms. He opened one eye only a little, barely at all, and then pulled her in closer as he smiled. Something started to vibrate somewhere around the cottage, and it took Ladybug a full minute to realise the sound came from her partner’s chest.

“Oh my God,” she mumbled, eyes half closed, half open. “I haven’t heard you purr in _years_.”

She buried her hands in his hair and scratched that place between his human and cat ears as he continued purring. They had done that routine so many times when they were younger, when Chat Noir came to her complaining about a particularly long day, and they would cuddle until he felt better, but it had been so long since the last time that had happened. The dynamic of the Miraculous Team had taken away their intimacy, even as innocent as it may had been.

Purring louder now, Chat Noir started to caress his cheek against hers, then nibbling at her jawline, like an affectionate kitten would do. It was so funny, so odd, to be in the arms of the other like that again. Chat Noir opened his eyes slightly, cat-like pupils dilated, and laughed a little; Ladybug felt his giggles and his purrs resonate all over her body, as if she was the one giggling and purring. She laughed, as well, but wasn’t sure why. They looked at each other as they giggled, and right there, in the air in front of them, something took form: it was as if their connection floated in the air between their chests, something tangible bonding them from the very start of the Universe and until its very last day.

Her hands worked on their own as they slid from his hair to his face, scratching their way down until they were cupping his cheeks. He could barely keep his eyes open, being only half awake, like her, but he managed to lean in again, nibbling at her jaw, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, until he blindly found her lips. They shared a chaste, warm, lazy kiss, filled with curiosity and a sense of familiarity. Ladybug buried her head in Chat Noir’s chest after kissing him, and he pulled her in closer and breathed into her hair as his purring started to die in his chest, falling asleep with the rest of his body.

Soon enough, they were once again soundly asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, and first of all: thanks for reading!
> 
> This one is so short, I know, I'm going to make it up to you by uploading the next chapter tomorrow! I've already started to write it and I think it's my favourite so far.  
> This was so sweet to write, and honestly this is how I picture their first kiss: something innocent, almost natural, something that feels right. I love Adrinette as well, but Ladynoir is my ultimate ship from the love square, they feel different from the rest.
> 
> Well, all of that said, I hope everyone is doing fine! Stay safe <3
> 
> Thanks again! See you in the next chapter or in the comment section. Le Sirene Xx


	5. Your name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You are such a Beth."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one has some references to Little Women. They won't bother if you haven't read the book/watched some adaptation, but I hope you enjoy them if you have! (If you haven't, please read it, it's a beautiful book!)

“I feel so bad for Laurie,” Chat Noir said as he closed _Little Women_ with frustration. “The poor kid is smitten with Jo and she doesn’t even notice him.”

They were sitting under a big three, deep inside the grove near the cottage. After the storm, the weather had gotten better and better, and that day had been just too beautiful to spend the whole afternoon locked inside. So they had thrown their baggiest coats over their supersuits, just in case someone saw them from afar, and had gone into the woods looking for the shadows of the threes.

Chat Noir had packed a little picnic for them, with a fresh loaf of bread he had made on his own, more cheese, and some cookies Ladybug had prepared a few days ago. He had also packed a thermos with tea, so they wouldn’t miss their evening cup if they stayed outside util it got dark.

“Oh my God,” Ladybug snorted, gently pushing his shoulder with hers, “you are such a Beth.”

“You are the Beth, Ladybug! You are _such_ a Beth.”

She snorted again, then laughed.

“You think? I always thought of myself as a Meg.”

“What? No way!” Chat Noir turned towards her as he pushed his weight from his legs to his feet, so he was squatting now. He extended the book towards her, gesturing to her body with it. “You care about other people more than you care about yourself, you bring peace to the Team, which is borderline _impossible_ , you are always solving fights before they even begin! You are a million per cent a Beth.”

“Okay, okay!” She tried to make him sit again; he had gotten so exited. After what he had just said, Ladybug didn’t know if she should laugh again, give him a hug, or make him eat dirt. She chose to remove the attention from herself: “Then, what are you? You could be an Amy, you know, always sticking your nose in other peoples’ business.”

Chat Noir made an exaggerated gesture of pain.

“You wound me, my Lady,” he exclaimed, both hands on his chest. “I clearly am a Laurie, always running after a girl that won’t give me the time of the day.”

She gave him a severe look in warning. He was so dramatic he truly could be an Amy.

“Don’t be like that,” she said. “You are not a Laurie.”

“I’m not? Interesting.” Chat Noir placed the book on top of the cardboard box they had used to bring the picnic to the grove, in absence of an actual picnic basket. Then, he sat sideways and rested his head on her shoulder. “Does that mean I have a chance with my Jo?”

Ladybug didn’t even looked at him; she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“I thought I was a Beth.”

“So you admit I’m a Laurie!”

She had to push him. She truly had to, there was no other way of taking that smug smile off his face.

“Oh, give me a break!” she exclaimed as Chat Noir laughed loudly, almost laying on the ground after her push.

Ladybug took the book for herself and tried to read a little, so he would stop messing with her, but she couldn’t make it to the end of the page on her own. After two weeks of daily lessons, she could recognise the most common words and structures, maybe catch the general idea of a sentence, but she couldn’t get too far without help. Chat Noir must had noticed so, because he took the book from her hands and started reading out loud from the beginning of the chapter, sliding his finger through the page as he read, so she could follow. He was too good to her, she didn’t deserved him.

Ladybug often wandered —now more regularly then before, if she was being honest— what had she done to deserve someone like him in her life. What had she done to deserve being, from the very beginning, a part of a whole, the other part being this amazing boy. She knew she would always feel at home next to him, that she belonged with him, and he with her, no matter what kind of relationship they had. They could be partners, friends, brother and sister, lovers, their destines forever intertwined. People spent lifetimes upon lifetimes waiting for their other half to show up, not knowing if they ever would, if they even existed, but she had found him at such a young age.

She sometimes wandered, too, how life without Chat Noir would be like. Without the magic, the powers, the responsibility, the masks, would they had met? Would she had ran into him in a coffeeshop, looked once into his eyes and realised he was the one that belonged to her side? Would they had even met? Would they had been a part of a whole then, or did they owe all of it to the Miraculous?

“You are staring at me,” Chat Noir said, his eyes still on the book.

“I am?” she played dumb, because, what else could she do? Tell him that even the thought of not having him in her life made her want to run and cry? No way, that was a million times worst than telling him he’d make a good model.

Finally lifting his eyes from the page, Chat Noir continued:

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention. I have always noticed.”

Ladybug froze on her spot. He was looking at her with a mix of bemusement and intrigue, and she felt like burring her head in the dirt, between the fallen branches and dried leafs, and letting herself rot right there. Had she _always_ stared at him? She hadn’t noticed before.

“I…” she babbled. “I do not stare.”

He gave her another long glance, as in deep thought, then shrugged and showed her a lazy half smile, going back to the book as he shook his head in disbelief. He kept reading as if that exchange never happened, but his simile got stuck on her head. It reminded her of what had happened the other night in the sofa: them sleeping together, sharing an idle kiss, soaked in the golden light of the morning.

When she had woken up, Chat Noir had been long gone. He had gone for a jog while she slept well into noon, and the noise of his shower was what woke her up.

Neither of them spoke about the kiss. And it wasn’t much of a kiss, in fact; it had been more like a caress, an innocent slip. She had had more intimate moments with Alya, if it came to the case! But their not-that-much-of-a-kiss came back to her mind as she, once again, stared at him.

He had tasted like a memory, a name she never would had associated with him resonating in her head ever since. The kiss she shared with Chat Noir felt exactly like one she had had three years in the past, and it made her feel uneasy and guilty. So guilty. How could she compare them? What did it meant that she _was_ comparing them? It had been days now, but the thought kept appearing in her mind when she less expected it to.

“You are so not paying attention to me.”

Ladybug zoomed out of her mind and shook her head.

“I am!” she squealed.

Chat Noir gave her that severe yet funny look he was so accustomed to receive from her.

“Really? Then repeat what I just said.” When she couldn’t manage one word out of her mouth, he closed the book and stood up. “Let’s go back inside,” he said as he started to gather their stuff in the cardboard box.

“What? Why? It’s not even dark.”

“You are being a bad student, miss,” he said as he started to walk towards the cottage. “So you are going to make a hundred exercises before dinner.”

“Are you for real?” Ladybug snorted.

Chat Noir stoped at the edge of the grove and looked at her from over his shoulder.

“If you are not in the house in five minutes, I’m locking you outside.”

She felt tempted to laugh. He would never do that, would he? She stood up and followed him, nevertheless, because there was nothing interesting to do in the woods if he wasn’t with her.

When Ladybug reached Chat Noir’s side, she grabbed his arm and rested it across her shoulders, in apology for being distracted while he tried to teach Chinese to her. He accepted the embrace, but didn’t encouraged it, and like that they walked to their little cottage.

It turned out that the hundred exercises before dinner were for real. She had made some exercises in the past days, and they weren’t extremely difficult, but they were so boring and required full concentration. It felt like being back in maths class.

They sat one in front of the other in the small kitchen table, the last hours of the day entering through the only window of the room and bathing them with it’s grey light. Chat Noir took a few blank pages from one of his notebooks and started to scribble Chinese characters all over them.

“I was thinking we could move into more complex words today,” he announced.

“How _more_ complex?”

Chat Noir smirked and handed the sheets to her.

“Since you were being so bad, very complex.”

She stared at him for a moment, but didn’t said a word. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her struggle, not even in silence. Picking up a pencil, Ladybug started to fill the blank spaces next to the Chinese words with their French translations.

The exercises were harder than usual, but not impossible. He allowed her to use the cheat sheet they had been making ever since their first lesson, which contained some of the basic rules of the language and random facts and characters they had classified as important. Chat Noir studied from one of his textbooks as she made her exercises, and after a few minutes of playing hard, he agreed to let her ask for help now and then.

The rest of the afternoon passed by as they studied together. At some moment Chat Noir had made tea for them, the one in the termos cold by then, and she drank it as she finished her last translations. When she reached the very last thing written on her sheets, she stopped abruptly:

馬里內特

The word stared back at her. She thought she could recognise it from somewhere, something on the back of her mind told her she _should_ know it. Maybe it was a very common word, like “friendship” or “fireman” or “emergency exit”? She couldn’t put her finger on it, so she ended up asking Chat Noir for help.

“What’s this one?”

“I’m not helping you,” he said as he highlighted a sentence on his textbook. “I’ve helped you too much already.”

“Please, it’s the last one.” She went as low as to put on a sad-lost-puppy-face.

Chat Noir’s body tensed, his eyes now fixed in a specific spot of his book.

“That’s your name,” he said in a low voice. So, she happily wrote _Ladybug_ next to the last characters and handed him her sheets. He retuned them instantly. “Try again.”

“You didn’t even look at it!”

“You got the last one wrong.”

Her head turned slightly to the side, her brow furrowing.

“But you told me it was my name.”

“It is.”

“So?”

Chat Noir finally raised his head and stared right into her eyes. She had always felt a little naked under his eyes, as if he could see through her suit and her flesh and straight into her soul, but she never thought he would actually be able to do so. Her mouth went dry as her head got filled by the sound of alert sirens.

She could play dumb again. She _should_ play dumb. She should lie to him, say that one wasn’t her name, that he was wrong, that her name was shorter, longer, than it was composed by two separate words. She could lie so easily, and he would have to accept it, even if deep down he already knew the truth. But she was tired of lying, had been lying to too many people for the longest time, herself included, and she most certainly was no coward, so she picked her pencil up again, crossed out her alias, and wrote her name in trembling letters:

_Marinette_

Chat Noir sucked in a breath, and she reached across the table for his textbook. Chat Noir’s hand laid on top or hers, stopping her before she could take the book. His name was right there, written on the first page, he had told her so.

“You already know it,” he said. His voice was full of urgency, but also certainty, somehow.

Ladybug wrestled with Chat Noir’s super-strength. She had to read it first. If she said it out loud, then it became real, and she had to be certain, absolutely certain before she said the name that had been on her mind for the last days. She couldn’t risk being wrong. There would be no coming back from it if she was wrong… Nor if she was right.

“Say it,” Chat Noir demanded, begged, his claws sinking so slightly in her hand. “Say my name, Marinette.”

Her body went aflame, her throat burning with a name she had come to adore in the past, written in all of her teenage diaries and scribbled in the corners of her school notebooks. Chat Noir’s identity was right there, had been in the back of her mind for a while now, but one thing was to suspect of it, and another was being pushed into this revelation.

She looked at him with wide eyes, one part of her feeling somehow relieved that this moment had finally come, the other part pleading her not say it, because it would change everything. But, at the same time, both of them knew the truth now, and there was no coming back from that, either. So she gathered all of her courage and took a deep breath.

“Adrien,” Ladybug whispered at last, because her body wouldn’t resist anything louder. “Your name is Adrien Agreste.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always: thank you soooo much for reading!!
> 
> Aaaand, just like that, we are so, so close to the end of this little thing, which makes me sad, because all of this has been sweet and cozy and warm to write, and all of you have made smile and laugh through the process.  
> I think this chapter is my fave of them all. We see their stablished dynamic, and we see little glimpses of Marinette's stutter in Ladybug and of Adrien's patience in Chat Noir, and also the Little Women references, omg! That book is so sweet and warm, I just had to bring it up and add it to the mix. Marinette may have a little something from each sister, but Adrien is the biggest Laurie, always so sweet and caring.
> 
> Please stay safe, stay home, and try to stay positive :)
> 
> Again, THANK YOU for reading!! See you in the next chapter or in the comment section. Le Sirene Xx


	6. Silver lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's... you." / "Can I... Can I touch...?"

They stared at each other for a long, long time, both of them frozen in their places. Chat Noir’s hand still laid on top of Ladybug’s, his claws on her flesh and his palm so, so cold against the back of her glove. Looking at the other now felt like looking at a brand new face for the first time, but also like reuniting with an old friend. She guessed it might be a little of both.

Ladybug figured one of them would have to break the silence eventually, so she cleared her throat and opened her mouth.

“I’m so sorry,” Chat Noir’s voice interrupted before she could even think of something to say. She had most definitely _not_ expected him to say that. “Oh my God.” He released her hand at last, covering his mouth with his, but she didn’t remove hers from the book. “I’m so sorry, Marinette, I should’t have done any of that.” He stood up and ran his hands through his hair in a nervous manner, and she kept looking at him in deep confusion. “I should’ve kept my mouth shut when I—Oh, why did I do that?”

“Adrien,” she whispered his name as she tried to grab his arm, his belt, to stop his rambling, but he moved away without noticing her intention.

“You must be so mad at me right now. And I understand, believe me! I don’t know what went through my mind. I got carried away, I—”

“Adrien! Please, take a seat.” She stood up and pushed him from his shoulders until he was sitting again. He looked at her with big, regretful eyes, like a kitten who had gotten in trouble and was waiting for its punishment, his cat ears drawn back, almost hiding in his hair. “I’m not mad at you,” she told him in the most gentle tone she could manage.

“You are… not mad?”

Ladybug shook her head slowly and extended a hand though the table, looking for his. He didn’t react to her touch, as if he couldn’t feel her. Maybe in other circumstances she would’ve gotten mad at him, but she couldn’t bring herself to do that, to feel that, now, after all they had gone through. Now she could see past him, past his fears and doubts and his bravado, and there she found a frightened child who wanted nothing more than her acceptance. She couldn’t reject him now, when he was looking at her like that. She could never reject him; never again.

“You were right,” she continued, “I already knew who you were, have known for a while now. I just had to stop lying to myself.” And she squeezed his hands.

“You are not mad,” Chat Noir repeated again, as in a trance.

“I’m actually very glad.”

He stared at her like a deer in the headlights.

“You are?”

“Yeah!” she gifted him her brightest smile. “I’m very glad you already are my friend outside of the mask. It will save us so much time in introductions and family trees.”

It took Chat Noir a full minute to realise Ladybug was joking, and when he did he laughed a little, and then a lot, and then she joined him and soon the both of them were laughing with tears in their eyes, hands interjoined on top of the table.

“Ah, Marinette, I’m so glad you are my friend, too.” He dried the tears from his cheeks with the back of his gloved hand, and she wondered if he, like her, had taken the excuse of the laughter to also cry a little. She felt both confused and relieved, happy and anxious, a wave of emotion swirling on her stomach.

Ladybug was truly thankful that Chat Noir, her lifelong partner, had turned out to be Adrien Agreste, her school friend. Beyond everything she could have felt for the model when they were younger, beyond everything she still felt for him, deep inside of her heart, he was one of her most beloved childhood friends. She couldn’t deny that it was a little hard to piece together the fact that the perfect golden boy was also the goofy cat boy, but she was going to take baby steps for now. They still had God knew how many days left in the cottage, and they would hopefully come out victorious from their intended crusade with Hawk Moth, and then…

“Can I… Can I _please_ take my suit off now? This leather gets so uncomfortable sometimes.”

A new alarm started to resonate inside of Ladybug’s head; one thing was to _know_ that Adrien was the one behind the black mask, but to actually see him out of costume… She looked at him and found his face turning red once again. Dear God! How long would it take for them to stop blushing like that, to stop the awkwardness and the tiptoeing around of each other?

She had to remind herself about the baby steps. Step one: realisation. Step two: confirmation. Step three: acceptance. She guessed the fourth may as well be “masks off”. Gathering all the confidence and strength her suit had provided her along the years, Ladybug stood up and, without ever releasing Chat Noir’s hands, walked to the living room.

They stood one in front of the other, as they had done a thousand times before. It surprised Ladybug how clearly she could identify Adrien now: the thick blonde hair, the piercing green eyes, his gentle hands, that amused, distracted smirk that always lingered in his mouth. How could it be that she had never noticed the resemblance? And all of his anecdotes about his friends, his strict father, his wealth, his missing mother? She could be _so_ oblivious sometimes.

Chat Noir’s back straightened as he inhaled deeply and let go of her hands.

“Claws—“

“Wait!” she exclaimed. “Shouldn’t we do it… together?”

Chat Noir looked at her in awe, as if the possibility hadn’t crossed his mind.

“You want to take it off?” he mumbled, and then exclaimed: “Oh, yes! Yes, of course, my La… Ah, Marinette.” He smiled softly and stepped closer to her. “Together.”

The last afternoon’s lights that entered to the living room through the windows were momentarily interrupted by a sparkling of red and green. Where Ladybug and Chat Noir had been, now stood Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Adrien Agreste.

Friends, partners, friends. Destinies forever intertwined.

They looked at each other with caution in both of their blushed faces. It had been so long since the last time Marinette and Adrien had met, the last time being Nino’s birthday party, and even then, they hand’t really talked at all, despite being in good terms, only hello and how are you and then goodbye. And now they stood together in this cottage, in the middle of nowhere, and Marinette felt like burring her head in the cinder of the fireplace. She looked around the room for Tikki, in need of moral support, but spotted her Kwami already out of reach, Plagg by her side as they exited the living room in silence.

Adrien’s body shifted in place. He was barefoot, dressed in plaid pijama pants and a black t-shirt, his arms stuck to both sides of his body. He was staring at her without any expression on his face, only blushed cheeks and lips pressed in a thin line. Marinette’s eyes travelled to her own outfit: she was wearing pijama pants, as well, and a pink tank top that didn’t matched at all. Nothing very interesting to see, neither inappropriate, but it made her feel naked. After years and years of only seeing each other with the suits on, Chat Noir now stared at her bare shoulders and arms.

One of his hands shook slightly, and she caught the movement in the corner of her eye.

“Can I…” he began to ask. “Can I touch…?” His voice broke, his eyes finding hers at last. “Can I give you a hug?”

Marinette released something like a sob, or perhaps a laugh or a weak “yes”. One second later, their bodies collided in a strong, longing embrace that made her knees weak. It happened almost naturally, their bodies driven to the other, that bond between them snapping into place once again. She breathed in his scent, so different from Chat Noir’s, but still similar, somehow, like the day and the night and the light and the darkness, two sides of the same coin.

She took his face in her hands, so she could take a good look at him. It had been so long since the last time she had seen Adrien, almost a year. His face was as handsome and kind as ever, his eyes bright and full of wonder, his skin golden and soft.

“It’s… you,” she heard herself whisper. “It’s you.”

“Good old me _ow_ ,” he joked, but there was a new uncertainty in his voice. His eyes wandered from her eyes to her lips and back to her eyes and then back to her lips. Was she still talking? Was she babbling nonsense as her hands caressed his cheeks, his hair, the shape of his jaw? Was she overstepping? Yes, most definitely, she was overstepping.

As Marinette withdrew her hands and took a step backwards, Adrien took one towards her, as if his body kept chasing hers. He kept approaching even when she stood still, and before she could comprehend what he was doing, his hands were at both sides of her face, his lips closing the distance to hers.

He kissed her without asking for permission and she welcomed him as if this exchange was the most natural thing in the world for them. Maybe it was. It felt natural, organic, _right_. In her teenage years, Marinette had imagined a hundred first kisses with Adrien, but she had never thought it could be so sweet, so patient, like a caress, like coming home after a long day. Yes, this may technically be their third kiss, but the first ones didn’t counted. That fast and inexperienced lock of lips they had shared when they where younger, that lazy kiss in the morning light a few days ago, those ones didn’t counted the way this one did. This kiss, though it was gentle, felt like an earthquake, it echoed all over her body, from the tip of her tongue to the tip of her toes. It left her breathless. Like free falling.

Her hands found their way back to his face, his hair, the back of his head, and she pulled him in closer. She could feel on her skin the shape of his muscles, the softness of his clothes, the way he arched towards her, blindly looking for her even though she was right there, between his arms.

Marinette pulled away so she could catch her breath, her hands slipping from his hair to his shoulders, and then to his forearms. It was so odd to be able touch his skin, hot and soft, freed from the leather suit. She had seen and touched Adrien’s skin before, in a completely casual and platonic way, that is, but his skin was no mystery to her. Chat Noir’s, on the other hand, was something new, different. She was only touching his arm, but it felt as if they were naked in front of the other, suit-less for the first time ever.

It took a moment for Adrien to open his eyes, and when he did, he did it slowly, as if he was waking up from a very good dream. He rested his brow against hers and inhaled and exhaled a few times, his hot breath warming up her skin. His face was so blushed, redder than it had been when she found him and the kitchen covered in flour, that morning where he had tried to make crepes on his own.

“Sorry” he said, voice trembling at the lack of oxygen, but didn’t pulled back. “You were so close and I… I was… I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.”

She managed to smirk a little, only a little, as her eyes tried to focus.

“Yeah… I…” She reminded herself to take a deep breath, to be brave, not shy. “Me too,” she confessed.

It was all it took for Adrien to grab her face again, kissing her with more urgency now, one of his hands on her jaw, the other on her waist. He clutched the fabric of her tank top in his hand, his mouth pressing to hers, her hearth beating faster, faster, faster, until she felt the hand on her jaw slid to her waist as well, and then her hearth jumped inside of her chest. She wanted to touch him, too, to drown on him, on that skin that had been so close to her, but also just out of reach for the longest time. But she didn’t know where to start, how to start.

All she knew was that she wasn’t going to stand there while he kissed her like that; she was _Ladybug_ , for the love of God, and that one kissing her was no other than _Chat Noir_. Her friend, her partner, the same boy she had known for a lifetime, the one who ate like a toddler, the one who laughed like an expert, the one she loved the most. So, overcoming the initial surprise of _finally being kissed by Chat Noir_ , and _Adrien Agreste telling her he had been wanting to kiss her_ , Marinette decided to take the matter into her hands.

It was way past midnight when Marinette managed to untangle herself from Adrien’s body, putting his black t-shirt on before she exited the master bedroom. She felt dizzy as she walked to the living room in the semidarkness of the cottage, the floor too cold for her naked feet. In the heat of the moment, they had forgotten to light the fireplace up, and now the cottage was freezing.

She squatted in front of the hearth and started to pile up the remaining wood inside of it. A soft tap on her knee took her by surprise. It was Plagg, Chat Noir’s Kwami. They had met only a handful of times along the years, never sharing much more than stolen moments, a few swaps of Miraculous here and there, but she recognised his little ears and big green eyes, glowing in the dark like two lighthouses.

“You better take care of him,” his hoarse yet soft voice said. “If you break his heart…”

“I love him, too, you know?” she interrupted.

Plagg stared at her, and she noticed how similar this creature and it’s Holder were. The green eyes, the amused smirk, the way they cared for the people they loved.

“You do? Like, for real?”

Marinette nodded as she finished setting up the fireplace, a little orange flame starting to grow between the pieces of wood.

“I’ve loved him for as long as I’ve known him,” she told Plagg. “And I can’t promise that I won’t break his heart, because those things happen sometimes, but I will fix it, if I ever break it.” She stood up then, her legs starting to feel numb after being crouched. “What I can promise you, though, is that I’m going to love him until my last breath.”

The Kwami stared at Marinette for another moment, brow furrowed and eyes scanning her in search of a lie, perhaps, or maybe a confirmation. Something must had convinced him, because he floated to her height and nodded ceremoniously.

“All right, lovebird,” he whispered. “You _Ladybugs_ always have the right word for everything, don’t you?” Marinette laughed and offered Plagg her hand, on which he sat. She started to walk towards the bedrooms, and before they entered the little hallway, Plagg added: “Just, please, don’t tell him you love him, just yet.”

“And why is that?”

“Because he would be _insufferable_.” The Kwami made an act of trowing up. “He won’t _ever_ shut up! And _I_ will have to listen to all of it _forever_.”

Marinette suppressed a laugh.

“Tikki is right,” she whispered, “you are such a crybaby.”

“I am _not_!”

“Yes, you are,” Adrien’s sleepy voice said from the master bedroom, his head buried between the pillows.

Marinette placed Plagg on the bed of the spare bedroom, where Tikki slept tightly wrapped in a blanket, and gave him a goodnight’s kiss before going back to Adrien’s arms.

“What were you two talking about?” he asked when she went back to bed, her cold body instantly looking for the warmth of his.

“Just going over the plans for tomorrow.”

“Right,” Adrien mumbled, slipping a hand under the black t-shirt and across her stomach, hugging her from the side. “Master Fu’s idea didn’t worked out.”

“What a shame,” Marinette said as she buried her head in the crook of his neck, his arms pulling her closer to his bare chest, until she could feel the beating of his heart echoing all over her body.

“Such a shame,” he repeated, falling asleep once again.

Outside of the cottage, the winds of autumn swirled the dry leaves, the open, wide countryside bathed in the silver lights of the moon and the stars. It was a quiet, cozy night, ideal to be tucked in bed with the one you love the most, soundly asleep as the world continues on, as friends gather around fireplaces and toast to many more years of friendship, as brothers and sisters teach each other how to read and write and bake, as soulmates meet in the least expected ways. Destinies forever intertwined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaand that's all folks ;)
> 
> THANK YOU 3000 for all the comments and kudos and subscriptions and for your enthusiasm and support!!!! You've made my days of isolation a lot brighter and happier, and I'm kinda sad we've reached the end of this little thing, but I'm also very glad that I've written it and that you guys enjoyed it!  
> One last time: I hope everyone is inside and safe. Take care of yourselves and each other, we'll get through this together!
> 
> Nothing more to say except thanking you again (and again and again)! See you in the comments, or some other time! Love, La Sirène Xx
> 
> PS: I've already started outlining another short fic (maybe 2 or 3 chapters?), but this one is going to be SAD, bc I can only come up with so much fluff from time to time. So, if you'd like to read a very tragic scenario where LB dies (or does she?) and Chat continues being the only protector of Paris... stay tuned!


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